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Book: Poems

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  • Isolation: To Marguerite
    We were apart; yet, day by day,
    I bade my heart more constant be.
    42 lines
  • Memorial Verses
    Goethe in Weimar sleeps, and Greece,
    Long since, saw Byron's struggle cease.
    74 lines
  • Philomela
    Hark! ah, the nightingale--
    The tawny-throated!
    32 lines, 1 comment
  • The Scholar-Gypsy
    Go, for they call you, shepherd, from the hill;
    Go, shepherd, and untie the wattled cotes!
    250 lines
  • Requiescat
    Strew on her roses, roses,
    And never a spray of yew!
    16 lines
  • Sohrab and Rustum: An Episode
    And the first grey of morning fill'd the east,
    And the fog rose out of the Oxus stream.
    892 lines
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